Endless
by Poopling
Summary: Mello already bitching about the bugs, and Matt seemingly only interested in the peculiar way his cigarette smoke paled to milky white against the soot of night. (MattxMello Drabbles, in future LxLight :3 )
1. Endless

lol are you ready for a lil fluff *hands webpage

Summers in Wammy's house were painfully hot; dense humid air and the the sound of chirping night insects blanketing everything in the evenings. Pallid stars would occasionally poke through the dusky haze of england sky, little pinholes into the eternal universe above. It had been in one of these heated, white-noise nights that Mello and Matt had escaped to the rooftop, Mello already bitching about the bugs, and Matt seemingly only interested in the peculiar way his cigarette smoke paled to milky white against the soot of night.

Mello's creamy skin had flushed to a rosy salmon after repeated, failed attempts to strike the little black mosquitos and gnats dead. Matt was unbothered by the horrid creatures, his nicotine fumes keeping them at bay.

"Goddamit. . . What the hell, why don't they fuck with you Matt?" Mello whined, the crack of his palm against his neck echoing a little louder than it should have.

"Matt is open for business." He declared, pointing two scrawny, pale fingers at the striped back of the reclining boy.

Matt glanced back at Mello, blowing a puff of bitter smoke his direction, it swirled and infused itself into the air, the concoction colliding with Mello's skin, causing a disheveled gag form the hot-headed blonde.

Matt allowed his upper body the pleasure of flopping back flat against the roof, he gently patted the empty area to the right of him, a silent signal for Mello to get his butt over there. Mello obliged, worming his way towards Matt, anything Matt wanted him to see or do was probably more intellectually engaging that the need for insect genocide that had occupied his mind at the moment.

Endless night extended in front of them, luminescent bands and freckles of burning stars mapped themselves out against the coal heavans, a scarf of indigo mauve galaxy hanging high, eerie silence stretching between all things.

It wasn't until this moment that Mello had noticed that their hands had been touching, the soft flesh right behind their pinkies melded together, His cigarette laying between his thumb and middle finger, on his touching hand nonetheless, and he had not bothered to move his hand in the slightest, dare taking another drag.

Matt had a small carmel freckle to the right of this pinky knuckle and Mello had always thought that was a kinda cute thing, dare he ever say it aloud. Matt's hands were really warm. And soft. And Mello had the overwhelming urge to hold them and memorize every part of those beautiful things.

He wanted to drag his fingers against the lines in his flushed palm and count every knuckle and he wanted to touch every part of Matt.

"It's beautiful isn't it. . ." Matted murmured against the last of his exhaled smoke.

Red hair rustled against the roof tiles as Matts angled his head to get a good look at Mello, silking blonde hair in his eyes and welds from the damned insects rising on his neck, Mello looked jittery as he placed his hands on either side of Matt's face. Holding it in place and he pressed their foreheads together, Mello's weight shifting onto Matts abdomen.

"Matt." The hot whispered air brushed against Matt's lips, The cigarette was dropped and the quite sizzle of its last cries were forgotten as Matt entangled his hands in the amber hair and gave the last push that forced their mouths together.

Mello's lips whispered of sweetness, and Matt's of bitter nicotine.

It was an awkward kiss, but that feeling faded back as the lips danced and melted together.

Mello's hair smelled rough and sagey, only hints of bitter cocoa mingling with the golden silk,

"Goddamit Mels, took you long enough." the salty, coarse words kissed Mello's now feverish skin and the heat coiled and twisted within him. Matt planted soft kisses against his jaw line before greeting his lips again with another hungry kiss. The moments clouded together for Mello , a sea of rosey pink and momentary happiness, everything was warm and he felt like he was finally home.

"I love you. . Matt." Breathed Mello in between formless kisses

Matt had whispered a "Me too." against raw lips.

i recently rewatched death note AND OH MY GEE HAS MY LOVE FOR FANFICTION RETURNED

wow so here i am publishing melloxmatt crap wow. i was actually a avid melloxnear fan for like a really long time so wow WOW

and also wow because the death note fandom is kinda dead and thats very sad

review it or whatever babe I LOVE YOU OKAY

(omg im sorru this kinda sucks a butthole, ill writesome HOAWT SMUT later so be happy for me)

BYE LOVELIES! 3


	2. Warm

Mello and Matt's room was warm in the winter and utterly sweltering in the summer nights, but in the frigid december months, when a pearly sheet of snow draped itself over all things, the heat of the room was pleasant, if not welcomed by the two.

Matt had awoken in a cold sweat, his complexion flushed with warm blood, the constellation of freckles seemingly intensified, His vision had been clouded for moments as he steadied his breath, which always seemed to catch in his throat upon waking, and attempting to blink more times than possible in a 45 seconds. He just breathed, letting the air flow in and out of his lungs, relishing the sound of feather light breathing escaping Mello, his faint figure chest rising and falling, like ocean waves perhaps or the ticking of a slow rusted clock, he didn't dwell on it long. Thinking of Mello, the buried need for that warm body next to his whispered and he accepted it.

The wood that glowed of honey, caramel in the morning light was cold and almost foreign under Matt's feet. Lightly padding over to Mello's humble bed, He awkwardly attempted to slip under the covers. Mello, in sleep had rolled himself in a maze of blankets and quilts, but Matt managed to enter the maze and pull Mello out from under all the suffocating layers, then just pulling him close.

Mello smelled like sweetness and damp clean wool, just having washed his hair hours earlier. Regardless, it was the best scent in the world. Matt entangled his hand in the silky locks and murmured a labored "I love you." behind Mello's pink ear.

Although Mello held the appearance of unconscious, happy sleep, he had heard these words and as a response had wrapped pale arms around the euphoric Matt, who had just, if even possible, fallen a little deeper in love with Mello.

Forever bathing in each others blissful sleep, just two singular people under a roof and a world of stars, a cocoon of expanding affection wrapping them.

…

KYYYYYYYA! 3 woow wooooow yay i love my crappy fluff, hopefully you do too.


	3. Dear Mello

Matt and Mello were dead, their bodies buried in the gravely, sleepy ground, their souls dissolved into the black unconscious of night, gone, but maybe if they were lucky they could have lived on, in the ever-burning, white heart of a star or in the glow of a newborn planet. maybe.

The funeral had been held on a weepy, lethargic day. Where the sky had moved with blue-gray clouds, the sun, pale and sick, hadn't even put up a struggle to break through. Three figures stood, Near, Quillish and Ruvie, three columns against the cool air. Near had said nothing, as the air pressed against his skin and sorrow twisted in his eyes. The bodies had been cremated, being burned beyond repair,they had not been a pleasant sight, and Near appreciated that. Mello. Although Mello had not been the fondest of him, he had never felt any dislike towards the mad blue-eyed boy, and Matt, how Near had disliked him. Matt, he hated the curve of his jaw and the way his garnet hair twisted behind his left ear, he hated him with Mello. He hated their causal touches and the way he would catch them snuggling together, a limp pile of body parts and appendages that somehow had to be comfortable. He hated the way they acted in the later years, when they were drunk or high out of their minds, the way the would hug and kiss and just talk about each other. He hated Matt, truthfully he hated Matt and Mello.

Near didnt cry, but somewhere deep inside he wished for tears, because once tears are shed the person is over, they have been rightfully mourned and they're dismissed from the thinking mind, but for Near, Mello was never dismissed. Some nights he would wake to find his heart racing and tears welling and the only thought of Mello and his warmth and arms. _Oh god did it ache. _

_dear mello_

…

Thank yew thankyew i am done poor kawaii near tho


	4. Liquor

_This is for a certain guest babe … :3 3 _

_note on last chapter: heh i didnt mean to sound like i was quitting ya know just quitting the chapter ya feel idk enjoy_

…

Mello was rather forceful under any influence, but it seemed to be intensified under alcohol. But today, friday, drinking day, he seemed _mello_. Rather bruised by any ideas rather than those actions of peach and pink. the drunken blood had collected at his cheeks and neck and it was an understatement to say he was a little tipsy. Matt had walked in on this mess of tangled hair Mello, his hands grasping at the plastic handles of bags, poorly printed and filled with various computer parts, everything chocolate and topped with a sprinkle of matts favorite cinnamon gum and a couple days worth of cigarette packs.

Mello watched as Matt's lips quivered into a smile, the smoldering cigarette worming its way out of his lips, but not fully reaching freedom before freckled fingers pushed it back. Mello actually quite enjoyed watching Matt smoke and he did have wandering thoughts about how hot he mused it was, something about the smoke flowing from the lips so freely, kissing the skin and leaving Matt smelling like Matt, bitter, beautiful Matt.

"Maa. . .at" Mello wined, chocolate liquor whispering on his breath

"Meeello!" Matt sang as he padded into the kitchen tossing the plastic on the counter.

"Mels how are you feelin?" he asked although he already could taste the answer.

"Pretty mellow actually, like my name, mello. . .hubsd" the sentence followed by murmurings and the sounds of a wasted Mello attempting to lift himself from the floor. Then the empty plop of him returning to earth echoing and pulling a chuckle out of Matt who had finally found the lost pack of cigarettes.

Mello could hear feet on carpet and the soft cracking of Matt's knees as he bent down.

"MAT..T" he wailed throwing his arms around broad shoulders, the weight pulling them both to the warm beige of carpet.

The smell of sweet, chocolate alcohol that enveloped Mello was almost palpable. And Matt loved that. Matt loved drunk and sober Mello, Matt just loved Mello, a lot. Sometimes, he pondered, a little too much. Mello loved Matt too, he just didn't vocalize this notion as much as Matt did, but oh did that change when he was plastered.

"MAtt, matt, i have a secret," he whispered against the copper hair tickled neck. Mello had apparently decided not to wait for a reply as he muttered, "guess what, what, i love you, okay very much."

"Ya, me too Mels. Me too, i love you."

Mello smiled, his usual pallid cheeks, already flushed from the liquor, darkening even more. It was the most beautiful color, Matt had decided, prettier than the dark nights that they watched together, prettier than the luminescent morning light, stunning.

Lazily Mello placed his hand, one behind the freckled neck and one threaded into the carrot satin, pink lips meeting and flouncing.

It wasn't long before Matt was drunk off the taste of Mello and snoozy kisses were being placed on necks.

….

_yo peace out_

_im still trying to figure out how to write smuty?romantic so pls forgive…._


	5. Gone

_okayyyyo yo_

…

Waking light filtered out through the venetian blinds, drawing glossy lines across the room and the sleeping red-haired figure, exposing the dust that danced through the mild air. Glassy eyes slid open, clouded from sleep but adjusting, the onyx pupils dilating. Matt sat up, rubbing his right eye a little too harshly, short-lived tears welling.

a murmured "goddammit"

He buried himself in the covers again, refusing to accept the morning and relishing in the warmth and peace of hazy not-quite-sleep. He did indulge in this dozy pastime before realising that Mello was gone and if Mello was gone that meant he had to be really late. really fucking late.

"shit."

Their room has been through every disaster it seemed, leather clad and charcoal clothing spewed everywhere. Shirt sleeves crawling out from the drawers of the dresser, Mello's sheets flung under the bed along with pairs of cotton socks and wrinkled jeans, a lone glove curling in the corner, coins and keys from their collective junk drawer sprinkled across the golden floor, one in particular catching the honey light, a few homeless cigarette butts metallic candy wrappers forced into the wall, with what seems a foot, _shit everywhere_. Mello was feeling unkind this morning, not that this was uncommon, this was just a more expressive of showing it.

Matt removed himself, with great effort, from the bed, the cool air licking his skin, unpleasant but not shiver worthy. He pulled his wrinkled clothing out from under Mello's bed, adorning himself in strips and copper tinted goggles.

When he read the glassy clock that lived in the hallway, he knew something was very fucking wrong.

"Fucking shit, oh fuck, fuck." the words slipped out, hot and angry as he ripped apart their already fucking disheveled room.

Mello was gone.

Mello was _gone._

When he found it, he did nothing but hold the rosary in his palm, feeling the structure as the soft points marked his flesh. Matt fingered each gleaming, polished bead, running the pads of his fingers over the rough chain that connected them.

"fuck."

Later he would find that Mello, drunk in rage and rebellion, had abducted one of Matts elbow length gloves and his favorite sweatshirt. Leaving his rosary behind as a sorrowful goodbye, placing it under the edge of Matt's pillow, then whispering sweet words and promises into silken carmine hair, and placing lips on cheeks.


	6. Missed

After Mello left Wammy's, Matt wormed the trail he had left, still not entirely sure where he was going, then ending up in a snoozy, perhapsy part of town in a cheap apartment, the kind that had thin walls and ozzy pipes, echoing with abuse and age.

It had been on a sleepy day where the sky was thick with gray cotton and the whispering of perception hanging heavy in the air. The coffee had been a little too bitter and a little too hot, steam whirling with the empty promises of a new day. Matt generally looked like shit, his hair dizzy and free, poked up into the thin march air, his sweat pants a little too loose, exposing the pale, freckled lines of hip bones, the cotton white shirt wrinkled and unwashed as it clung to his frame. He had lingered in the kitchen a little too long, the coffee growing cold and stale, the morning dissipating from the clouded skies.

The ramble of knuckles against the papery door caught his attention, pulling him away from the smoldering cigarette and the risen sun. The door whined in objection as it was torn open, what stood between him, ash fell from the cigarette and then the whole smoke came plummeting down.

Skin scared then pale, hair gold and satin, eyes azure and vulgar.

Mello.

He was adorned in black, slick leather and metal that bathed in light, throwing thick sharks back into the eye. His eyes were strong and stone, no salt or sand and burning with a blue falm that likced a the edges of the iris. Rough skin puckered at the dip of his eye, the unpolished pink flesh cascading over the face and draping over the whispers of shoulder blades.

Matt could feel his heart jump, the abnormality in beat catching the breath in his throat, tears welling in piney eyes, breathlessness taking all and painting over with relief and a pitted sense of grief.

Mello hugged him, Mello hugged Matt.

Matt just stood clutching Mello to him, pulling all the tight leather into wrinkled fists. Hot tears running and cheeks filling with bright flushed blood, words attempting to be whispered but slipping from the tongue as chokes and gasps. Pure joy should have rushed through Matts veins, he should have told Mello he loved him, he should have smiled as wide as he could. But in the moment Matt was grieving, grieving the Mello who he once had. The Mello that wore creamed skin and silk hair, pale frost eyes that held youth but no innocence. He mourned that Mello, it took a long time for the feeling to dissipate.

an: thx ily :)))))


	7. Dreamt

After the accident Mello had an abundance of endless nightmares, hot flames licking his eyes and engulfing his body, burning him until bones were left, sometimes Matt would burn with him and he could hear Matts pleading and screamed sobs echo in the wavy heat. occasionally matt would be divided from him, an invisible force keeping them apart, Mello would claw his way through the thick glass, grappling and shouting, Matt would just watch him burn, sometimes smiling with spotted cheeks and gleaming teeth. Mello decided the worst was when he just burned alone, the only stimuli heat and pain, it whirling through his body, climbing up his spin and scalding his eyes, shiny blisters bubbling and popping, eternal white hot agony.

Mello would awake, his skin glossy with beads of sweat, hot breath caught in his throat, dry eyes. Matt would materialize through the darkness, whispering and cooing as he would to a child.

"Mello, baby." He would say, stroking Mello's cheek, sometimes the scarred side, others not, "Its okay, Im here."

He would kiss Mello on the forehead, or hug him, or wipe away his tears, or get him a cup of cold water or hot tea. He would hold mello until the fear dissipated. Until Mello felt safe and Mello felt like he was home.

Matt loved Mello dearly and it was no secret.


End file.
